


five ways to avert a crisis

by dawnishpurple



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Beverly Marsh Knows Everything, Beverly Marsh is a Good Friend, Bisexual Bill Denbrough, Established Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Gay Mike Hanlon, Jealousy, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bill and bev date for like 5 seconds, it seems like one sided pining but it isn’t okay i promise, mike and eddie are best friends because that was canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dawnishpurple/pseuds/dawnishpurple
Summary: "I have a crush on Bill Denbrough," Mike said confidently to his reflection in the mirror. It had taken him weeks to gain the confidence to say that aloud, even if it was just to himself.If only Bill wasn't dating someone who Mike couldn't even bring himself to dislike.The one and only Beverly Marsh.
Relationships: Bill Denbrough/Beverly Marsh, Bill Denbrough/Mike Hanlon, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 89





	five ways to avert a crisis

"Mike? Did you hear what I just said?"

Mike fingers the bracelet in his palm, his index finger running over the soft red and blue stitching so intricately sewn it must've taken hours. His other hand is braced against his locker, and his brows are furrowed as he studies the bracelet in his hand. A soft but persistent voice snaps him back to life. Mike quickly shoves the bracelet into his back pocket before looking down at the shorter boy who had called him. 

"Eddie, yeah— wait no, I didn't," Mike replies, rubbing the side of his face. "What was that?"

"I said, do you wanna go to the library today to study with Ben and I?" Eddie asks patiently, his eyes soft and nonjudgmental. "We could really use your help on the English essay. It's kicking both of our asses, even Ben's."

"Yeah, okay," Mike nods, his hand slipping into his back pocket where he had placed the bracelet a few seconds earlier. He feels the material against his fingertips. It is impossibly soft for wool thread. "Is Ben gonna meet us there?"

"Probably," Eddie supplies, shrugging. "He's gotta stay a bit after school to finish writing a test I think. Come on, we can take the long way and stop at the store on the way for snacks." 

Eddie pulls on his sleeve while Mike shuts his locker closed and slings his backpack over his shoulders, walking alongside his shorter friend through the now nearly empty hallways of their school. His other hand is still tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, fingers pressed against the red and blue thread. 

It was Beverly Marsh who had made them all friendship bracelets back in the seventh grade, after her aunt had bought her an embroidery kit for her birthday, filled with at least two dozen different colours of threads. She had spent all day making them, and they had known she was working on something because they hadn’t seen her once the entire day. Not at the Barrens in the morning or at the diner at midday. In the late afternoon, when the sun had casted tall shadows along the dirty white concrete just bordering the forest, she had finally climbed down the ladder leading down to their clubhouse, colour clutched in her hand. Bev’s grin was bright as she tied one to each of the boy’s wrists. Back then they had still all blushed and giggled whenever she would touch them, maybe not in love with her but completely foreign to the idea of a girl that beautiful paying them the slightest bit of attention. When Beverly got to Mike, she had just smiled even wider and fastened it tight and secure onto his wrist. 

"You know this means you're officially part of the losers club, homeschool," she had told him with a wink. Face full of light and voice like a quieted waterfall. "If you were thinking about turning back, you can't now. This makes it final." 

Mike remembers smiling. He had no intention of leaving, ever since he had been welcomed into their friend group a couple years prior he felt as if he found his family. Growing up with only his grandfather and no friends since he didn't go to school left him lonely. Having no one but the lone upright piano in the corner or his den to practice until his fingers were sore, but with no one to share it with left his heart an aching sore in his chest. The losers club gave him a purpose. They all made him feel welcome. Beverly Marsh went out of her way to make him feel like he belonged. 

Mike also remembers the feeling in his gut while he watched Bev fasten the bracelet onto Bill Denbrough's wrist, this time both of their cheeks dusting bright pink as their hands brushed together and maybe even lingered at the touch.

He's thinking about that right now, walking side by side with Eddie Kaspbrak on their way to the town library. Eddie's going on about something stupid Richie did in first period, and while Mike would usually be paying attention and listening intently to his best friend, his mind is in another universe right now. He's thinking about a boy and a girl.

Bev and Bill didn't start dating until last year. It’s quite painful for Mike to think about the amount of time it took for Bill to finally gain the courage to ask her out. It looks suspiciously like the amount of time it took him to process his feelings for Bill himself. Pining, some would call it, and maybe the two are identical. But Bill was the only one to get lucky. 

But it isn’t like Mike was any surprised. There's always been something between the pair, for years, everyone had known that. Bill and Bev could’ve been just as much common knowledge as Richie and Eddie. So it didn’t come as any surprise when they walked into the cafeteria one day, holding hands, flustered grins on both of their faces. 

Mike's known he's only liked boys since he was young, and he knew he probably liked Bill a little when he first met him. But apparently everyone did. Even Richie and Eddie at one point in the beginning, who are basically inseparable now. 

But Mike _really_ liked Bill. Maybe it was the natural born leader in him that he also recognized in himself. It didn’t hurt that he also happened to be the most beautiful boy in the world. 

But truly, Mike had no actual _idea_ why he liked him so much. Sometimes he felt selfish for the idea of hogging him all to himself. Even though it was just the mere idea of him, some version living far off in his head, though he knew that there was only one version of Bill Denbrough that he loved, and that was the one he showed with the rest of the world. Even though Mike had never dated Bill, he never dated anyone, the fact that he was the only boy he really ever actually felt real things for made him feel like he was unfair, sometimes. And it made him feel like an outsider more than anything, and a creep, because how would Bill react if he only knew how much the other thought about him? 

The realization might have hit him harder than he was able to handle once Bill and Bev started dating. The lingering stares they'd give each other, the kisses before they'd leave to get to class, the constant hand holding. Mike realized how much he didn't like it. And how it really made him feel. 

One day he had come home from school, feeling worse than usual, and he remembered throwing his bag down and rushing to the bathroom. His hands were braced on the sink and he was staring at his reflection in the mirror like he was hiding something from himself.

"I have a crush on Bill Denbrough," Mike said confidently to his reflection in the mirror. It had taken him weeks to gain the confidence to say that aloud, even if it was just to himself. 

If only Bill wasn't dating someone who Mike couldn't even bring himself to dislike. 

The one and only Beverly Marsh.

He tried to hate her for a couple days. But it didn't work.

Every time he looked at her, all he could see was sunshine, the best girl he had ever known. Everything you felt while looking at a Renaissance painting. The only bit of light in that dark town, and she didn’t outshine Mike or Bill or Eddie or Richie or Stan or Ben. She only brought out the best in them, lighting them up from inside out and teaching them every good thing they would ever need to know in order to be the best people she would ever know. And Mike knew he could go to Bev about anything. All the boys knew they could. Most of all she was always the best listener in the group, and effortlessly she could also give out the best advice. If Mike was into girls, he'd probably be in love with her, too. 

The mere idea of disliking her is almost as if an invasive species could be a thought, so unwanted and cruel it can damage and spoil all of the other good things, the pure memories and pristine notions.

The tugging on his sleeve brings Mike back to earth and out of his thoughts, Eddie pulling him in the direction of the small grocery store on the side of the street, tucked in between the bakery and the ice cream shop, closed on weekdays. 

"I hope Bill's working his shift today," Eddie tells him. "He works after school on Wednesdays, right? We can say hi."

Mike's cheeks turn pink at the mention of Bill's name, his stomach fluttering with a mixture of butterflies and anxiety because oh yeah, of course he forgot that Bill works there.

He doesn't understand why he still gets this flustered at the mere mention of Bill's name. It’s stupid, really he sees him nearly everyday at school and whenever the losers hang out, which has always been very frequently. So why is seeing him for the hundredth time always like seeing him for the first time?

Mike walks in with Eddie, the door jingling to signal that there’s customers entering. Mike is grateful when Eddie drags Mike down the aisles, past the cash register on the other end where he knows another boy will be. Eddie is determined, brow furrowed as he studies the aisles and then grabs a bunch of snacks for them to sneak into the library while they do work. Mike helps him, taking a bag of chips for the both of them to share while Eddie grabs about five different types of chocolate bars. After getting soda they finally walk up to the cash register, Mike’s heart hammering in his chest because he knows what’s about to come. 

The first person he notices is Bev. She’s leaning across the counter, blocking the view of the person she’s talking to, undoubtedly Bill. She hasn’t cut her hair in a while. It’s flowing down her back and covering the exposed skin of her shoulder blades, fiery red against the freckled pale. Mike can hear her laugh at something Bill said, and he can’t help but smile a little, because Bev’s laughter has that sort of effect. 

She turns around when she hears them approaching, her eyes lighting up right away. 

“Hey!” She greets the two happily. “Didn’t know you guys were gonna stop by. On route to the library?”

“Yep,” Eddie grins, his hands full with snacks. “This stuff isn’t all for us, don’t worry, you know how much Richie likes Mars Bars.” He rolls his eyes but he’s smiling too, putting the candy down one by one on the counter for Bill to scan. 

“That’s Richie,” Bill sighs, his eyes falling on Mike which makes him smile wider too. Or maybe that’s just what Mike wants to think. “Hey! You were so quiet, I didn’t even notice you come in.”

Mike’s mouth falls open, not knowing what to say, but luckily Bev cuts in.

“Mike, how did you think you did on the bio test?” she asks, leaning back against the counter on her hands. “Why am I even asking, you probably did amazing. You studied for that thing for _weeks_.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” he replies, nodding slowly. Mind a blur of trying to figure out if Bill is looking at him while he tries to keep eye contact with Bev. “It went alright, I guess.”

“Don’t be modest, Mikey, you’re so smart,” Bev grins with a small eye roll, pushing herself to sit on the counter. “Oh, you still have the friendship bracelet! Wow, I didn’t think anyone still kept them.”

“Wha—” Mike looks down at his hand, where he sees that he’s clutching the bracelet nervously. He didn’t even realize he took it out of his pocket. 

“Shit, I remember those,” Bill frowns, leaning over the counter to get a good look. “I think I lost mine within the first month of you giving them to us.”

“Of course you did,” Bev responds, rolling her eyes but harder this time. “Mike, I can’t believe you actually kept mine. And after all this time, too.” 

There’s something brighter in her eyes as she looks at him, she looks like she’s grateful, and so full of love at even the smallest act of Mike keeping his bracelet. Mike wants to hug her. 

“Yeah, I kept it in my locker,” he tells her. 

It’s only a half lie, since it _was_ sitting in his locker for years probably, but he had only found it this morning. Mike had been homeschooled up until he started high school, when he was finally able to convince his grandfather to go to a real school with his friends. When he first started in grade nine, he had brought all of his favourite things with him to store in his locker. Including Bev’s bracelet. Which he seemingly forgot about until now. 

“That really means a lot,” Bev tells him, giving him one of her sunshine painting smiles, her eyes twinkling in the daft overhead light of the slightly cramped grocery store. 

“Wait, Mike, can I see?” 

Bill’s leaning against the counter more heavily now, having just finished ringing up all of their snacks. He’s holding his hand out and he’s looking straight at Mike.

Mike’s heart is beating loud in his ears as he holds the bracelet out to Bill, hoping his hand isn’t shaking as badly as his mind makes it seem. Bill looks at it for a second, then without speaking he takes Mike’s wrist in his other hand and slips the bracelet on swiftly. He makes quick work of tightening that it so it won’t slip off.

Mike can’t seem to feel the floor underneath him, he’s not even sure if he’s breathing or not. Because Bill is touching him and his hand is on his wrist and his fingers are so _soft,_ so gentle and careful he feels like he maybe might not even be here at all. Because he’s never existed in a universe that makes all the right decisions for him. 

“There you go,” Bill murmurs with a satisfied grin. “Anyways, your total is $13.65, how do you wanna pay?”

Before Mike can react, either to Bill’s question or whatever the _hell_ just happened, Eddie steps forward, fishing the cash out of one of the pockets of his shorts and giving it to Bill.

“You paid for our milkshakes on Friday,” Eddie tells Mike when he starts to protest. “Plus, I’m pretty sure Richie’s gonna stop by and steal half of this anyways.”

Mike nods, his mind still a bird caught in an airplane propellor. He needs to get over Bill Denbrough, and he needs to do it soon, because Bill only touched his hand and yet he still can’t feel the ground underneath him. 

“Come on, Mikey,” Eddie urges, taking his hand and pulling him as he walks out of the store, waving goodbye to Bill and Bev. Mike barely looks back at them as he stumbles after Eddie. 

He is totally and completely ruined.

It’s not like he hasn’t tried his hardest to get over him before. 

First, he tried to dislike Bill. 

All of his flaws, all his weaknesses. Bill chews too loud. He can get really bossy with the rest of the losers. He’s often impulsive. Like the time he punched Richie in the face over a stupid argument. 

But the same Bill apologized to Richie everyday for an entire week after that, even though Richie forgave him only two days after. He’d do anything for his friends. Mike could never hate him, no matter how hard it tried. It was nearly just as impossible as trying to hate Beverly. 

“Do you think they were kissing or something before we got there?” Eddie asks, snickering a little to himself. 

“What?” Mike asks, his brow furrowing. “Who?”

“You know who,” Eddie replies. “Bev and Bill, who else?”

“You really think they were?” Mike mumbles, studying the sidewalk in front of him. Why does the walk to the library seem so much longer than usual? 

“Duh, Mike. No one else was in the store.”

Mike doesn’t respond, instead keeps his eyes trained at the concrete straight ahead of him. He trusts Eddie more than anyone else in the world, and yet he still hasn’t told him.

That’s not to say he hasn’t tried. In fact, the second thing Mike did to try and get over Bill was attempt to tell Eddie about it. 

He had read somewhere that telling someone else about something that deeply affected you could help you deal with better, even get over it. So he did, in a way. 

“I’m gay,” he had blurted out to Eddie two years ago, who was sitting cross-legged on his bed, flipping through one of Mike’s history books. 

Eddie just looked up, blinking a couple times. He looked as if he was considering something in his slight pause before replying. “Oh. I am too.”

And that was it. Eddie knew one of the biggest secrets about him. There wasn’t any judgement, and there wasn’t any praise either, it was almost as if Mike had told him that he really liked going to the movies, and Eddie had simply agreed with him. 

Eddie wasn’t technically out to anyone, but he seemed to have some sort of relationship with Richie back then. It wasn’t as official as it is now, but anyone with half a brain could tell that Richie liked Eddie and Eddie liked him too. Mike always suspected Eddie liked boys just like him, but when the other had confirmed that he was in fact, fully gay, he realized that it must’ve been a big moment for him. Because Eddie just came out, too. 

It might’ve not seemed like Eddie cared too much, but Mike knew him better than that. He always had a tendency to make things that are a big deal seem like they’re not that big of a deal. A habit of underplaying the heavy stuff, not even meaning to half the time, but doing it all the same. Something he’s been trying to work on getting better at since, especially with the people closest to him, especially with Richie and Mike. Mike had known then that Eddie had probably been waiting to come out for a long, long time. And he wasn’t about to ruin that by making it about himself and tell Eddie about his big, pointless crush on Bill that didn’t even matter that much anyways. Because Bill didn’t even feel the same way Mike did. 

So he pushed Eddie, not too much but just enough, and it wasn’t long before he was telling Mike about his longtime crush on Richie. In fact, it was Mike who convinced Eddie to fess up to Richie about his feelings, which led them to getting together not too long afterwards.

Mike had not realized that he was in fact, being selfless. But then again he had never recognized those kinds of things about himself. Most truly selfless people don’t. 

“Oh look, Ben’s car is here,” Eddie points out, the bag of snacks swinging in his hand as they both approach the library. “I guess he did arrive before us. Come on, Mikey.” He tugs on his sleeve to lead him to the tan coloured building and Mike is pulled out of his thoughts once again. 

-

Mike waits outside Bill’s door, his hands shaky in anticipation more than nervousness, his fingers tapping against his jeans. He has been here many times before, and it isn’t odd that his grandfather’s old truck is parked outside his driveway and that he’s maybe dressed nicer than he would’ve any other day. It’s nine thirty pm and he’s waiting for a boy so that they can do something they’ve done almost too many times to count. 

Bill opens the door less than a minute of Mike knocking and his smile breaks across his face right away, bright and knowing, knocking the other’s shoulder gently as some sort of greeting. Mike smells his cologne and his mind goes blank, back to the whims of being fourteen years old and realizing he liked the distinct smell of cologne and smoke and boy, after Bill Denbrough had discovered a bottle of it on his father’s dresser. 

“Ready?” Bill asks, and if he’s noticed anything about Mike’s silence and the slightly dazed look in his eyes, he says nothing. He walks past him to the driveway and opens the passenger door to his car to get in. Mike should be doing that for him, he thinks. Opening the door. Or maybe he shouldn’t. Maybe people who are just friends don’t do those kinds of things for each other, he thinks. He shouldn’t be thinking about it while he drives, at least. 

Mike knows the town like he knows the vast maze of his farm, the criss cross fields and the dusty stables and which cow will bring the best milk for the day, which one needs to be fed better beforehand. He has the roads memorized and he could tell you the exact location any specific turn would take you. He knows his town. He’s not very fond of it but he knows it like the back of his hand. 

He takes them past the pharmacy that Eddie had once his broken realization at, passed the library and the grocery store and the synagogue where Stan had given his speech that left his parents speechless for days. The road rolls under his wheels and he tries not to watch longingly out of the corner of his eye as Bill rests his head against the window and stares outside, the golden-orange street light shining on the exposed column of his neck. It’s not a horrible idea, he thinks, to realize that he might be in love. Because pretending he wasn’t was the third thing he did in an attempt to get over Bill. Fairly recent but more destructive than he would’ve let on.

Mike grips the wheel harder as he thinks back to the years he spent telling himself that this was only a passing crush, something small, nothing enough to explain the way his heart would expand just _thinking_ about the brown haired boy. He couldn’t think of the word love, couldn’t process it, because love made it real. He had listened to Eddie describe his love Richie, how he sometimes felt it in heavy waves, some days nearly knocking him down off his feet. Mike had been too scared to admit to himself that it was the exact way he felt about Bill. 

But Richie and Edddie were _different_. They both felt the same way, always had, since they were too young to realize what feelings even were. It was so obvious, the way they both loved each other in so many different ways it was nearly dizzying to think everyone except them knew. Richie and Eddie were always in love. Richie and Eddie were different from Mike and Bill. Right?

Mike turns the corner to the slightly crowded parking lot of The Aladdin and thinks about the fact that he knows he is actually in love with Bill Denbrough. Frightfully and entirely. Completely in the part he thought he’d never have to be in. 

He thinks about how Bill will never know that he’s the love of Mike’s life as he parks and turns off the ignition, and then he thinks about how if he’s even allowed to _call_ Bill that. The love of his life. If it only goes one way. Even if he’d never admit it to anyone else, not even Eddie, his closest confidant. Maybe that’s a bit unfair. Eddie tells him everything. Eddie’s not one to spill his guts out to just anyone. 

“Crowded night,” Bill speaks, breaking the silence once more. Mike quite stupidly thinks about how he hasn’t said one thing, not since they both left. And Bill has spoken twice. Mike’s fear of his worst kept secret being discovered by the worst person to know grows every single day, but tonight it spreads itself all over his body like a terrible rash. 

“Perfect for this,” Mike replies, a smile creeping across his face, catching Bill’s brown eyes like light. 

And Bill smiles wide and then Mike feels something against his hand. And by the time he looks down and registers that it’s the other boy’s hand sliding into his own and braiding their fingers together he thinks he’s so far into the clouds he can almost make them out in front of his face. No clouds. Just the most beautiful boy in the world. 

“Let’s see if we can get the best seats this time,” Bill proclaims, a challenge, and Mike’s grin grows stupid wife in response. They turn and run to the back of the theatre, laughing wildly into the night, hands clasped firmly between them.

They’ve been doing this for almost a year now. Sneaking into movie theatres became their normal since that one Friday night last summer. Bill had been at Mike’s doorstep, his face long and eyes sad and it broke Mike’s heart into so many pieces that he couldn’t even find the words to ask him what was wrong. He just knew that he had to fix this. That was always his specialty, after all. Fixing things. 

They were halfways to the theatre when Mike realized he had forgotten his wallet at home, and so had Bill. But if you couldn’t find a screwdriver to fix a loose screw you’d take a coin or a butter knife to do it instead. Mike didn’t just give up trying to fix things, trying to make things right. He was gonna take Bill to see Jurassic Park at The Aladdin no matter what. So he snuck Bill on using the back door and used his car key to pick the heavy lock. Then he led him through the hallways, on the lookout for any staff or security guards who would notice that they hadn’t come in the right way. Bill had been skeptical at first but by the time they reached the theatre he had been giggling and his cheeks were pink and there were no traces of any of the sadness he had displayed when he showed up outside of Mike’s door that afternoon. 

After the movie Mike and Bill had sat outside the theatre with their backs against the rough concrete walls and their knees pulled up to their chests. They watched people come and go and Bill told Mike about his big fight with his dad. His dad told him he had a hard time letting go of things and was too careless with his feelings. In other words, Bill was too emotional to be his father’s son. All of the losers had been available that day, but Bill went straight to Mike. Because Mike knew how to fix anything, from a broken mail post to a broken heart. And now Bill was better. He said he felt better, and Mike said he believed him. 

Bill would show up at Mike’s doorstep often after that, with empty pockets and a grin on his face. It became a regular thing for them, not just when one of them was sad, either, but it never hurt to cheer the other up. Mike and Bill prided themselves on not wasting a cent on movies while watching nearly every single one there was. 

Maybe it was a secret thing, too. Just something for the two of them. Because Mike can’t remember Bill telling any of the other losers about it, and he hasn’t told anyone either, not even Eddie. All they know is that the two of them hang out alone sometimes. But what they don’t know about are the giggles and secrecy and the occasional hand holding and the absolute euphoria of sneaking into a crowded theatre on a Friday night. 

And so maybe it was for only the two of them. 

Today they’re watching a movie that just came out, Forrest Gump. It’s premiere day so it’s as packed as it can be for the only theatre in Derry and it’s gonna be much harder to sneak in, but that’s kind of the whole point. They’ve been planning this one for days. They’re gonna sneak in and watch it together first and then they’re gonna pay for it and watch it with the rest of the losers next week, as if it’s their first time, just like the others. 

Getting in is hard but not impossible. Mike and Bill keep to the sides of the walls and then rush in with the rest of the crowd. It’s getting in the theatre first to get the best seats that’s the real struggle. But Mike just squeezes Bill’s hand and guides him through everyone else, slipping in through another back door that takes them into the empty theatre, the rest of the people who are waiting with tickets outside the main door, waiting for them to open. 

They wait together in the darkness, the two of them, until finally bright white light shines from the screen. And they’re smiling as people start to shuffle in, slouching down on the seats to hide themselves from the rest. 

As the movie starts, Mike can’t help but to think back to the fourth thing he did to try and get over Bill. 

-

Out of all the stupid steps for this incredibly stupid plan to get over this stupidly beautiful boy, trying to stop hanging out with him was rightfully the winner of absolute absurd stupidity. 

He tried it once. An excuse. My grandfather needs more help on the farm, he’s gonna cut my allowance if I don’t push my weight around more. And it worked. Probably straight bullshit even from him but since Bill is the kindest boy he’s ever known he didn’t once question it and he accepted. 

It took one missed movie. One.

Dazed and Confused, the literal movie of his senior year. All anybody could talk about since the first September it came out, the first September that Mike Hanlon had ever said no to Bill Denbrough. 

Missing the movie was bad enough. His grandfather actually _did_ need extra help and maybe it was just bad karma for lying to Bill but he really did threaten to lessen his allowance if he didn’t do it. And since he hadn’t snuck in that first week when he had the chance, he was busy for nearly two weeks afterwards and by that time everyone had already seen it, and it was the talk of the year. Bill seemed even more left out. Because Bill knew almost everything there was about every single movie there was. And he didn’t like to not be in on the joke. 

Natural born leaders, both of them. Headstrong and kind but maybe not in the way they wanted to be. 

But missing Bill, that was the worst of it all. Not getting to spend time with him only made his feelings deepen, made his mind short circuit into a single-lane track of a certain chestnut-haired boy. Mike could only ever think of the next time he’d get to be with him in person, not just in the hazy depths of his mind. 

He snuck Bill into the theatres the Friday of that week. And watching Bill’s smile out of the corner of his eye, pearly white teeth lit up by the flashing light on screen, he thought about maybe how he’d never say no to spending time with him, no matter how aching his heart ever became. 

-

The movie ends and both of them stand up, stretching out and yawning, their limbs sore and half asleep from being crowded in the stuffy small seats for three hours. By the time they get out of the theatre it’s past midnight. The breeze outside is warm and swollen with summer so they sit against the wall of the theatre instead of inside of Mike’s truck. There’s something more intimate about sitting inside an old vehicle outside a movie theater at 12:25 AM. Sitting against cold concrete walls watching moving cars go past is just… something friends do. 

“I thought it was decent,” Bill shrugs, looking up at the sky. “I don’t know. Maybe it’ll grow on me. Just I didn’t get what everyone was so excited about.”

Maybe if Mike could choose only one place in the world to be stuck in forever, maybe he’d choose this place right here, but he thinks that he could stand being anywhere as long as he had Bill beside him. 

“I thought it was nice,” Mike responds. “Refreshing. I don’t know. I liked it.” Truthfully he did. But had been getting harder and harder to pay attention to the plot instead of the boy sitting next to him. 

“Yeah well, anyways, thanks for tonight,” he mumbles, looking down at the space on the floor in front of him. “I know it was short notice I— I needed this.”

“Of course man,” Mike replies coolly, grateful for the dim light overhead so his blush won’t be too visible in the dark. “You know we can do this anytime.”

There’s silence afterwards. Bill doesn’t say anything. He just keeps staring at the spot in front of him like it’s the bright screen of a movie theatre. 

“Anything on your mind?” Mike asks, testing the waters.

“Bev and I broke up,” Bill answers quickly, like he was waiting for Mike to ask. Mike can’t read the emotions in his voice. He says it like it’s a fact from a book, voice rushed but firm. No shakiness or regret or maybe that’s just what Mike _wants_ to believe.

“Oh—“

“It was mutual,” Bill interrupts, suddenly tearing his eyes away from the concrete to look straight at Mike, who realizes he’d been looking at Bill the whole time. “We both figured something wasn’t working, we didn’t actually _feel_ anything beyond like just— we both decided. She likes someone else and I just don’t like her in that way because shit. Kissing her was like if I had a sister and I kissed her and she probably felt the same way and I made the right decision, right Mikey?”

The rushed rambling and the worried eyes flicking back and forth, searching across his face have not rendered Mike speechless but maybe the familiar nickname has. Eddie always calls him Mikey and sometimes the rest of his friends do too but this is _Bill_ we’re talking about. Big brave Bill who doesn’t make himself vulnerable for anybody and puts on a brave face and doesn’t use nicknames because that means he’s being true to himself. His first really bad fight with his dad, sitting outside the concrete theatre with Mike, knees pulled to his chest. _He said, ‘no son of mine’, Mikey. He used those exact words._

And because of that Mike can barely even _process_ what Bill just told him. Something he’s probably wanted to hear longer than he can remember, from the moment he found out, but his brain takes a few extra moments to catch up before he finally registers other boy’s words. 

He realizes he hasn’t spoken since Bill asked him the question. As he opens his mouth to try and say something-- anything to make the other feel better, Bill is leaning forward and closing his eyes and then suddenly there is something very soft against his slightly parted lips. 

Mike registers that it’s his first kiss before he can register that it’s _Bill_ kissing him. And while Bill’s hands drift up to cup his jaw all he can think of is how he’s never been kissed before, never kissed a single person, only dreamt of it for years and years. And now he’s kissing the one person he’s wanted to for longer than he can remember. 

Mike closes his eyes, his hands moving to grip at Bill’s forearms. He lets the other boy lead the way, trying to copy his movements with his mouth, thinking about how he can’t even feel his stomach. He can’t feel anything, except for parts of himself that Bill is touching. He can’t understand why this is happening. Just a minute ago Bill was telling him about his recent breakup, and now—

Mike pulls away first, more sudden and abrupt than he intended too. Bill is red in the face and his eyes are wide and he’s stuttering badly, so badly and he looks like he’s gonna cry. 

“I’m suh-suh-suh sorry, Muh-muh Mikey please,” he manages to get out, and Mike just then realizes that the other boy’s hands are shaking.

Mike doesn’t say anything. Ten minutes ago Mike would gently shush the other, rub his hand soothingly against his shoulder to comfort him, tell him that it’ll be okay. Ten minutes ago Mike would have never pulled away from a kiss like that. Would want to kiss Bill until he positively died from asphyxiation. But ten minutes ago Mike wasn’t being used as a rebound. 

Later, when Mike is lying in his bed, staring up at the ceiling as he tries his best to fall asleep, he’ll feel the gut wrenching guilt twist all around his body, holding him against the mattress like tangled up vines. The horrible image of Bill with tears streaming down his cheeks and hands shaking so badly he can barely place them against the concrete to stand up, as he tries desperately to apologize but hardly being able to get any words out, will be burned into Mike’s brain like an iron brand. Mike will feel the horrid feeling of not doing anything to help while he walks to his car, unlocking it as a crying, humiliated Bill Denbrough follows him, getting in the passenger seat as he tries to stifle his tears into his trembling hands. Mike will cry too then, his face buried in his pillow as he feels the regret overtake his entire body like a disease. He should have helped him. But he was too blinded with pain and anger to do such a thing. 

So he had dropped the other boy off and then driven home, his lips still numb where Bill had pressed his own against. Thinking bitterly about how he had gotten everything he wanted and then had it all ripped away in less than an instant, by his very own doing. Bill will never wanna talk to him again. And he doesn’t know if he wants to either. 

-

It takes Mike fifteen days before he makes the decision to undo the stupid, stupid five step plan to stop loving the heart of his entire ocean. He’s spent weeks tantalizing over this. Overthinking every little thing. Avoiding the one person in the world he feels like he can’t breathe without. 

Undoing the plan. Undoing all those stupid steps he tried following so he could stop loving a boy he always knew deep down he could never stop loving. Undo, untie, unravel. Backtrack all the mistakes he’s once made that haven’t helped him once. 

The first step was trying to dislike Bill. Mike already knew he was physically incapable of that. Physically capable of disliking anybody, actually, but he’d be too modest to tell you that fact. 

All the leftover resentment from that night at the theatre, every single thing he thought he knew about why on earth Bill Denbrough had kissed him was flushed down the toilet. He could never hold a single ill feeling towards the light of his life but he made sure to get rid of anything still lurking around in the narrow chambers of his heart. Bill kissed him for a reason. Maybe it was a reason Mike didn’t appreciate but he wasn’t gonna hold that against him. 

Then, he had to go tell someone. 

At the end, he went to Bev. 

They sat together in the same grassy field they had once all stood in, in a circle with their hands all linked together and a promise on their lips. Mike told Bev everything, talking until his mouth felt tired and he had to take a break to massage his jaw. Bev kept the same easy eyes the entire time. Understand but also some other quality shimmering underneath, something suspiciously close to a look of knowing. 

She never once asked why he was telling her all this, her out of all people, and especially now. When she just broke up with Bill only a few weeks ago. Mike hadn’t felt for a second like she was a foreigner to his feelings and the way he expressed them. She only exuded understanding and kindness and warmth, so much warmth. 

But then again, she had only ever radiated that. 

Today he plans to fix the last three steps. He knocks against the dark oak door of the Denbrough house and steps back, hoping that the person he wants to see will answer. He has nothing else but hope and a slightly crumpled up note in his hand. 

Bill opens the door and Mike thinks he looks beautiful, a thought that has crossed his mind so many times it’s mostly just a background hum by now. Bill is beautiful. He doesn’t know if there’s a second of the day he’s not thinking that, even if he doesn’t realize it. 

But he looks tired, too. Nervous. And Mike wants to take all of that away from him. But he has to focus on this first. Fix all the hurt. Untie knots.

“I’m sorry,” Bill starts, before Mike can get anything out. “About the kiss. I was— hurt. And confused. And I didn’t know, I didn’t know what I was doing I just—“

“I’m in love with you,” Mike interrupts, before he can stop himself. His hands clenches slightly around the paper, unclenches. 

That’s two steps down. Admit that you’re in love with Bill. Admit it _to_ Bill. The last and final step is nearly crumpled up in his hand. 

This time, Mike is the one who crosses the space between them and presses their lips together, his free hand moving to cradle his jaw. He can feel the other boy sighing against his lips, almost like he can feel all the tension melt out of him. Then Bill’s hands are at his waist. And he thinks that maybe he can forget about the other time they had pressed their lips together. Because this feels strangely like a perfect first kiss. 

“Here,” Mike breathes out once Bill finally pulls away, breathless. He puts the letter in his hand. “This explains everything. I wrote it because I wanted to stop feeling everything I felt for you— but it didn’t work. It has everything in there. Everything I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud.”

“Come with me,” Bill answers, taking Mike’s hand and pulling him inside the house, much to the other’s confusion. 

He takes him up the stairs, Mike’s hand in one hand and the crumpled up paper in the other. He leads him past the empty room that has caused so much hurt and sorrow in Bill’s life. Caused him tears that Mike always wanted to kiss away. 

Bill’s room is darker, blinds drawn shut with the small lamp casting a warm yellow glow across the space. Bill let’s go of Mike’s hand, putting the letter neatly on his desk before opening one of the drawers and rummaging through until he finds what he’s looking for, handing it to Mike with a slightly shaky hand. 

It’s a thick piece of sketch paper. Cream white and slightly grainy. Right in the middle is Mike Hanlon, sketched with charcoal pencils and watercolor. Eyes brown and soft and staring straight back at the wide eyes of the real Mike Hanlon. 

“I kind of did it in a rush,” Bill tells him, and it sounds like an apology. An apology for making him into art, into something so beautiful that Mike can’t even formulate the words in his head. So much so that he is rendered speechless.

“I didn’t wanna show you because I didn’t think you felt the same,” Bill continues, when Mike doesn’t say anything. This time it sounds like an explanation. “I mean, it would be weird right? I’ve only ever drawn Bev before. I didn’t think— you’d think that was something just friends did for other friends.”

Mike probably would’ve, honestly. He was so convinced that Bill could never love him back, would never. He was so blinded with his own feelings of self deprecation and supposed unrequited love that his eyes were unable to see just how much Bill cared for him, too. All the little clues. He can see them all so clearly now.

“Also, I didn’t want you to see that without you knowing exactly how I felt when I made it,” Bill finishes, and it sounds like he finally got everything he ever wanted. 

“Can I kiss you again?” Mike asks, his voice sounding suspiciously close to being choked up. He looks up at Bill with eyes as warm as the pencil brown etched around his pupils on the crisp sheet of paper in his hand. 

“Yeah,” Bill responds, smiling, before he kisses the other boy back, unable to stop his grin, so that eventually they’re just both laughing against each other’s lips. 

Five ways to avert a crisis. Who knew it could end in something so sweet. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you thought :)
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my friends Snig and Tae, who have helped me and motivated supported me endlessly. I love you both so much.


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